


i was stained, by a role

by ChezPillow (PillowLord)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alive Cole Anderson, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 12:13:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19701142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PillowLord/pseuds/ChezPillow
Summary: A Jedi walks into a bar to seek the assistance of a Mandalorian bounty hunter.





	i was stained, by a role

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Bee (beepgrandchero), Moss (sir-moss-of-mossington), and Nambu (RK800shadesofhuman)! Checkout Moss's and Nambu's art and give them some love!!
> 
> Nambu: https://www.deviantart.com/noirenambu/art/2019-HankCon-BB-A-Moment-of-Meditation-804657145
> 
> Moss: https://sir-moss-of-mossington.tumblr.com/post/186127170092/an-hankcon-bb-piece-for-the
> 
> Also,,, I like to think this doesn't require much Star Wars knowledge. But,,, I would like to apologize to any SW fans for this story,,,

Hank spots the man from the corner of his eye. He freezes – it’s a jetii. A jetii standing in a stiff, proud manner at the doorway. A jetii who walks in without a care further into the bar. A jetii who doesn’t even bother for a disguise in his visit to the Outer Rim. He’s either very stupid or very arrogant. 

Hank puts some credits down for his drink and bows out of the conversation he was in. He makes his way to leave, but he is not lucky enough to make it past the jetii. The jetii stands in front of him, blocking his way. The bar falls into a hush. 

“Hank Anderson?” the jetii starts. “My name is Connor, I’m – “ 

“An idiot,” Hank interrupts. “Why are you approaching a Mandalorian?” 

He doesn’t flinch. “I have sources that tell me you’re the man I’m looking for.” 

“What for?” 

“How about I buy you a drink and we can discuss it?” 

A drink? Hank looks at the jetii, who stares at him expectantly. If the robes aren’t obvious enough, his demeanor gives the man away. Jetii have a distinctive air to them, a sort of detached inhumanness. He knows the stories. They aren’t to be trusted. The Mandalore–Jetii War is history, but Mandalore still is not healed.

Hank pushes his way past. 

Despite his disinterest, the jetii follows him out. Hank picks up his speed, rushing into the bustling market. Submerged among the crowd, he adopts a more subdued pace. He takes a meandering path around the outpost, hoping to lose his tail. 

Connor is relentless in his pursuit. Hank scowls. It is annoying – but Hank can respect his persistence. He slips into the back roads, taking twists and turns, deeper and deeper into the housing district. The areas between the buildings are a maze, but Hank knows the outpost. He knows it well. He can take Connor on a wild chase until he decides it’s not worth it and goes on his own merry way. 

Once he loses Connor, he climbs his way to the roofs. Hank doesn’t want to take any chances, and so, he continues his wandering, far from his ship. He goes the long way back. 

Nonetheless, the outpost is small, and it takes no time at all to reach his ship. He stops in his tracks. At his favorite food stand, Chicken Feed, Connor sits with Cole. Cole is devouring a burger while Connor peels at the label of his bottle. 

He wants to seize Cole and run, but he realizes it is too late. He might not know how long Cole and Connor have spoken, but really, any amount of time is long enough. Connor would have realized Cole is force sensitive the moment he saw him. Hank swallows his fear. The jetii can’t have his son. 

Hank stomps over. “Cole you stay here. We’re going to have a talk later about accepting food from strangers.” 

“But Gary’s not a stranger!” he whines. 

“Later.” Hank grabs Connor by the hood of his robe. “And you, are coming with me.” 

Hank pulls him away, but then stops short. He has nowhere to talk to Connor privately but his ship. He groans, dragging his hand on his face. “Kriff.” 

He takes the risk and brings Connor to his ship. Sumo rushes up to them, knocking Connor down and greeting him with a series of licks. 

“You have a dog?” Connor looks up at him, confusedly delighted. “What’s his name?” 

“What, you never seen a dog before?” Hank ruffles Sumo’s ears, carefully avoiding touching Connor. “His name is Sumo.” 

“Hello Sumo. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Connor.” He smiles at the dog. 

“We’re getting off topic.” Hank straightens. “You’re not taking my son from me. If you dare try to take him, I swear I will kriffing kill you.” 

“What?” Connor’s brow scrunches and he tilts his head, “I’m not here for your son.” 

Hank frowns. Realization dawns on Connor’s face, his eyes widening and his mouth slightly ajar. He didn’t know. Great. Kriff. If he... If he loses Cole because he – because he kriffed up – he will never recover. 

Connor tucks his hands in his sleeves. His voice halts his thoughts. Connor’s tone is even and calm, mechanical as he recites, “It is an unfortunately common misconception that the Jedi forcibly take children. They are freely given to the Jedi. You have nothing to worry about because I am not here to take Cole from you.” 

His words do nothing to soothe Hank. If anything, the recitation sounds like a fake excuse that is often given. Hank does not relax. 

“Then what are you here for, huh?” 

Connor stands, putting his hands behind his back. Sumo strolls off elsewhere into the ship. Connor watches him go before facing Hank again. 

“You have previously worked the Red Ice case. Information from such would be helpful in my ongoing mission. I would greatly appreciate your assistance. I am willing to pay you for any information you give. Please.” 

Comparing the earnestness of Connor meeting Sumo to his almost robotic delivery of his request is jarring. Hank knows it is in part due to his hostility but seeing the change is still strange. The only break in character is the tacked on please at the end. 

“Tell me about your mission.” 

“That’s classified.” 

“Why should I trust you?” Hank puts his hands on his hips. “I don’t know what the kriff you’re going to do with the information.” 

“You are not involved in the mission. I cannot speak of it with you.” 

“So what? You want me to help you on your mission now?” 

“I – what, no. I...” He stumbles over his words then sighs. “You’re not going to help me unless I tell you more.” 

“The fact I’m giving you the time of day is something. I should charge you for this.” 

Connor gives him a tight smile. “At the very least, can you swear that, if you refuse, you will not spread the information?” 

“Sure. Okay. I swear.” 

“There has been a rash of recent disappearances of Jedi knights and their Padawans. Investigation has led the Jedi to Red Ice.” 

“What does Red Ice have to do with the disappearances?” 

Connor pulls at his sleeves. He breaks eye contact. “The making of Red Ice. It requires a Jedi.” 

“Jedi make Red Ice?” 

The uptight, almighty jetii. Making Red Ice. One of the strongest drugs out there. Something he spent a good portion of his career going after. Figures Jedi are the root of the issue. Callous bastards don’t care who get hurt. Hank laughs, bitter. 

“Not willingly!” Connor flushes. His fists tighten. “A padawan as young as nine is just gone.” 

That makes Hank pause. Jetii disgust him as a rule, but a nine-year-old is innocent – even if they are a jetii. 

Connor interprets Hank’s pause as reluctance. “If – if you help me – I will leave you alone. I won’t tell anyone about Cole.” 

Hank’s hackles rise at the mention of Cole. He spits out, “Blackmail?” 

“Please,” Connor is borderline begging. “I wasn’t going to tell anyway but if I swear it, will it make you believe me?” 

“No.” Hank takes a breath. “I won’t do it for you.” 

Connor’s face falls. 

“I’ll do it for the kids though. You better pay me well. Taking a job with the jetii. Could ruin my reputation you know. And Cole is non-negotiable. You can’t take him.” 

“Thank you. I promise that I will pay you handsomely for your services and I will leave you and your son alone after this mission.” 

Connor smiles brilliantly. His shoulders slump in relief, the tension sliding out of him in increments. Hank is uncomfortable at the show of emotion. Jetii are supposed to be detached statues. Not this weirdly expressive man. 

It is Hank’s turn to shift awkwardly. He clears his throat. “Well, I um. I’m going to bring Cole back to the ship. Stay here. We can talk more later.” 

Hank makes a hasty retreat from his own kriffing ship. Luckily, Cole didn’t wander any further and he is still at Chicken Feed. 

“Cole! What did I say about – “ Hank barely restrains his voice as he walks over. 

Cole looks down. “Not to leave the ship alone.” 

By the time Hank reaches Cole, he is calmer, and he is able to evenly ask, “And what did you do?” 

“Leave the ship alone.” He pouts. 

“That was incredibly reckless. What if you got hurt?” 

“I was careful! And we know Gary!” 

“You didn’t know Connor,” he counters. “I’m not going to take you to the next podrace.” 

“But Dad!” Cole whines. “He felt trustworthy!” 

“No buts. Now let’s go to back to the ship.” Hank pats Cole’s shoulder. 

Cole drags his feet. He kicks a few rocks along the way. “So are you going to help Connor?” 

Hank runs his fingers through his hair. He goes for the simple answer. “Yeah. Yeah I am.” 

“I thought you said never trust a jetii.” 

Hank raises an eyebrow. “Funny you say that.” 

“It’s different!” Cole crosses his arms, an imitation of Hank. “I can tell.” 

“I know kid.” Hank ruffles Cole’s hair. 

Cole rushes in to the ship and up his room, letting the door slide behind him closed. Connor makes no comment. Hank falls into the pilot chair. He gestures for Connor to sit at the co-pilot seat. 

“Come on. Let’s talk.” 

Connor takes a few hesitant steps forward, his earlier easy confidence gone. He sits on the chair – awkward. His back is ramrod straight and his knees bend at a 90-degree angle. Hank is uncomfortable just staring at the man.

“Sheesh, relax.” 

He gives a stiff smile in response, showing his gums. Hank resists the urge to further comment on the jetii’s appearance – barely avoiding blurting out _You look goofy_. He’s not here to rip on the jetii. Right now, that is. They sit in silence staring at each other. 

“So uh. You gonna tell me more or what?” 

Connor’s hands are clasped at his lap. He rubs them together. “I told you all I know so far.” 

“Really?” Hank’s fingers tap on his upper arm. 

Connor falters. He looks off to the side. “Officially, that’s all I know. But I do suspect that Red Ice does not require a jedi just for their trained abilities.” 

“Cut the suspense. What else do they need jetii for?” 

It’s not quite eagerness that is bubbling inside him, but rather something more foreboding, like dread at the potential answer. Connor is fortifying himself to deliver his suspicions. Hank, too, braces himself. 

“Blood of a jedi.” Connor closes his eyes. “There are… special properties to the blood of a force-sensitive, especially when they are powerful.” 

“The children – these Padawans?” Bile rises in Hank’s throat. The bitter tang of it chokes him. Don’t think of Cole. Don’t think of Cole. It doesn’t have to be Cole for the image to be horrifying. “Do you know what they are used for?” 

“I don’t know, Anderson. This is all...” He waves his hand helplessly. “Conjecture.” 

Hank’s fist tightens. “Will Cole be in danger?” 

“If I put an end to them, he won’t be.” Connor’s hands are crossed across his lap; once again, he takes up the image of a serene jetii. 

“I’m going after them.” 

“I just need information.” Connor’s eyebrow twitches. “Don’t put your son’s life on the line.” 

“Well, how about you don’t tell me what to do?” Hank is careful to keep his voice down despite his anger. “If you fail, Cole will be in danger. I don’t trust you enough to be competent in ending this threat.” 

Connor flinches. “I only have enough to pay you for the information.” 

“I’m not exactly doing this for you, am I?” Hank scrubs at his beard. “Paying for the information will be adequate.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah. So where to?” Hank scratches the back of his head. 

“Ralltiir.” 

Hank inputs the coordinates for Ralltiir, then sets the ship to auto-pilot. “A core world?” 

“It is a galactic trading center,” says Connor, plainly. 

Hank decides that the trip is going to be a long one. For some reason, he keeps forgetting that Connor is a jetii. But the placid manner just jars him back to the knowledge. What is he thinking – willingly taking on a case from the jetii. Kriff, he even volunteered to do more for below pay. 

He reminds himself that he is doing this to keep Cole safe. 

He might as well learn more about the case. Hopefully, Connor will let him have access to the files so he can draw his own conclusions. He crosses his arms and leans his chair back, as he thinks of how to best frame his request to the jetii. He decides to be direct. 

“Can I see the information you have already?” He taps his fingers on the arm rest. “Maybe I connect what you have with what I know.” 

Connor digs out a small data chip from one of his belt pouches. He hands it to Hank. “Here.” 

Hank gets up from the pilot chair and heads to the common area of the ship. Connor does not follow at first, but rather, he just turns his head, watching. Hank inserts the chip into the reader at his table. He assumes Connor gets uncomfortable because the jetii joins him. 

It takes a while for his old hunk of a machine to parse the information. The internal fans whirl in dissatisfaction. 

As they wait, Connor decides to speak up: “I understand that you are… uncomfortable with jedi. But –” 

“Yeah. No shit.” Hank snorts. 

Of all the possible conversation starters. The man is awkward. It’s like he never really interacted with normal people before. There is a certain amount of openness to him. Connor is not afraid and has nothing to hide. All he is, is a jetii, the top of the hierarchy. He has allowances. 

Connor tilts his head. “Why do you hate jedi?” 

“What can I say?” Hank shrugs. “You’re all heartless bastards.” 

The corner of Connor’s lips pulls down. He brushes off imaginary dust from his pants before responding. “People think Jedi are unfeeling androids, but we’re _not_.” 

“Yeah, a droid has more personality.” Hank smacks the data chip reader. He laughs bitterly at his own joke. 

“Oh.” Connor bites his lip and looks away. 

“Yeah, oh.” Hank runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t have a guest room, so you’ll have to sleep on the couch.” 

“Okay.” 

“I’ll get you some blankets and pillows. Should have some… extras around. Yeah. So – I’ll do that. Now.” 

Hank makes another hasty retreat from the awkward tension that permeates the air. Sure, it’s mostly his fault, but Connor didn’t need to ask. He curses in his head. He probably won’t be able to go through the files yet. He pulls out some extra linens from the closet as he turns over the day in his head and attempts to make plans around it. 

He never anticipated working with a jetii but the situation calls for it. If the jetii is unsuccessful – or called back to the frontlines without resolving the issue – Cole could be in danger. He reminds himself of his priority. He’s not here to soften blows or comfort the jetii in his common room. 

He gathers the pillows and sheets into his arms and heads back. He dumps them onto the booth then backs away. 

“Well, I’ll just,” Hank points at the door, “go.” 

“You can stay. Look over the files. I don’t mind. I’m not sleepy yet.” Connor trips over his words, going increasingly faster. “I can look with you?” he asks, hesitant. 

Hank wavers. He sighs, then settles at the foot of the booth, leaving space between him and Connor. 

The data chip reader hums to life. It bathes the room in a soft blue light. Connor looks human, his face scrunched up in concentration at the display. Hank coughs and returns his focus to the information. 

Five jetii knights. Two padawans. Three clones. And two… members from the Agricorps? 

“What’s the Agricorps?” 

Connor moves closer and looks over his shoulder. “Oh. Not all jedi become knights. Agricorps is farming and such. It is just one of the many sectors jedi might go into.” He taps his fingers on the couch. “It’s not that unusual for someone from the Agricorps to go missing.” 

There’s not much hidden there. Knights are prioritized while everything else falls to the wayside. Jetii let their members disappear and only care if – if they’re a knight. For all they proclaim to be peacekeepers, they sure have an emphasis for warriors. Hank knows better than to bring it up for an argument though. Not now. He doesn’t need to assume, but he can tell it’s going to be a something he will be feeling often. 

He exhales. “Why are we looking into this, then?” 

“Trace amounts of their blood was found in the batch of Red Ice we have.” Connor pulls their files up onto the console. “Their disappearances are slightly older than the others.” 

They read in silence through the files. There’s not much to them beyond the bare minimum of facts. Hank notices Connor drooping. 

“Hey,” Hank elbows him. “Want to continue tomorrow?” 

“No, no, we can finish reading tonight.” He lifts somewhat, stretching. “I’m not tired.” 

Hank certainly does not observe Connor’s sinuous shape. His attention is on the files. Only the files. The heat he feels is from the warmth of the ship, not Connor’s body pressed alongside him. 

“Okay,” he chokes out. 

It doesn’t matter anyway. Within an hour, Connor’s head falls onto his shoulder soon after they begin the second file. Figures. Mr. Awake is asleep. He turns off the reader. Hank carefully maneuvers out of the booth and lays Connor gently down. He drops a blanket on him and avoids the urge to do anything more. 

The next morning, he watches from the doorway as Connor talks softly to Cole. Sumo is on the couch with his head on Connor’s lap. He lifts his head with Hank’s appearance and ambles over. Hank pets him absentmindedly then Sumo leaves for food. Connor’s attention does not leave Cole. 

“You have to be careful, Cole.” Connor says with a slight frown upon his lips. 

“You sound like Dad.” 

Cole is sitting on the floor, his back leaning against the base of the data chip reader and occasional makeshift table. He tosses a rubber ball up and snatches it from the air, repeating. 

“Maybe he has a good point.” Connor pulls at his sleeves. 

Cole tosses the ball to Connor. He doesn’t flinch or even fumble as he catches it with one hand. He gives the ball back to Cole. 

“You should learn control.” 

Hank freezes. It seems neither of them have still yet to notice his presence. He decides against intervening for now, interested in their interaction. 

“Dad doesn’t want me to learn that jetii bantha shit.” 

Connor winces at that. 

“Besides, if I do learn that stuff, I have to ask dad first. Right, dad?” 

_Busted._ Connor turns around slowly. 

“Hello, Hank.” 

“You.” Hank jabs a finger towards Connor’s direction. “Come with me.” 

He takes Connor aside to the cockpit. Not exactly far or great for privacy, but it will have to do. He pushes Connor into the co-pilot chair. 

Hank crosses his arms. “I don’t want my son becoming jetii.” 

“The force is not unique to the jedi,” he starts, sounding every bit of a teacher on a lecture. Connor stands from the chair. He begins to pace in the cramped space. He takes out a coin and begins to fidget with it. 

Hank scowls. “I know that. But I don’t want you teaching him jetii tricks.” 

“I can teach just – general things. That are related to the force, I mean.” 

“Really, now?” Disbelief colors his tone. He might not know much about the jetii, but he knows that the way they use the force is what makes them who they are. 

Connor stops pacing and looks Hank in the eye. “Leaving him untrained… it’s dangerous, Hank.” 

“You’re putting a target on his back!” 

“I’m letting him defend himself.” Connor reins himself in, his coin now hidden in his hand. He continues coldly, “After all, you’ve taught him how to use a blaster. What’s so bad about learning another form of defense?” 

Hank’s grip on his arm tightens. He doesn’t need some jetii to come in and criticize his parenting. He’s done fine on his own for the past six years. Cole will stay safe. With him. Not with some jetii that doesn’t know what a feeling is, even if it hits them in the face. Besides – 

“Trained force users are what makes Red Ice!” 

“That’s only one danger,” Connor answers just as forcefully. “There’s even more with untrained force sensitives.” 

“He is my son. And that’s final.” 

Connor leaves the cockpit. Every bit a drama queen, especially with a flowing robe to whip behind him. 

Hank takes back control of the ship from auto-pilot. Piloting calms him down some. He needs to think. Leaving Connor and Cole alone should be fine. Cole knows the boundaries. 

He decides to change the location. He’s still going to Ralltiir. Just a different spaceport. Closer to a friend rather than the local authorities. He doesn’t want his son to be around Connor for now. It would be safer if he stayed somewhere else in the meantime. Decision made, he inputs the new coordinates, his anger quelled. 

He returns the ship back to auto-pilot and sends a quick text comm message, delaying the inevitable. If he’s going to get yelled at, he might as well do it in person. 

“Hey.” He sticks his head out of the cockpit. “I gotta make a quick stop first.” 

Connor looks up from his tablet. Cole probably gave it and the holonet password to him. Hank’s just glad Connor didn’t go against his order. On the other side of the room, Cole is playing with Sumo, tugging rope. It looks almost domestic. Hank shakes the thought out of his head. 

“What for?” Connor asks. 

“I prefer not to leave my son and dog alone on the ship if I can help it.” He doesn’t mention his other reasons. Let Connor assume the rest. 

“Can I come with you?” Connor employs a puppy-eyed look. Hank thought he would only be weak to Cole’s and Sumo’s, but Connor is somehow making a runner-up.

He lets out a breath, looking anywhere but at Connor. 

“Sure why not?” He chuckles. “Let’s give Jeff a heart attack.” 

Connor inclines his head, resting it on the back of the couch. “How long will the pit stop be?” 

“Not too long. It’s just at a different part of the planet, not another planet altogether.” Hank sits down across from Connor. 

He hums in agreement. 

With Hank’s returned presence, Cole and Sumo go to Connor’s side. Hank can see the reasoning that Cole believes he can only be around Connor with supervision. He is glad his son understands so well. 

He may be feeling better but he wants to retire to his room and just sleep. But he knows his son is lonely and bored with only Sumo and him as companions. Connor is someone new and exciting for him. Someone to explore. If he leaves, Cole won’t be able to. He settles for closing his eyes and listening. 

“What if I explain the concepts before teaching?” 

The question interrupts the quiet. Connor is unwilling to let it go. 

“You can reject or accept them.” 

Hank opens one eye to look at him. Connor has his face down, his thumb rubbing at the coin. He is gentle as he pets Sumo. Cole looks between them, tense. 

He can see the ghost of tenacity in Connor that made Hank respect him in their first meeting. A fire that won’t be put out. Hank finds himself admiring it once again, the full force of it focused on him. 

“Make your argument then.” His arms are crossed over his chest. He tries not to let his face betray what he is feeling. 

Connor takes a breath. He doesn’t respond right away; first, he gathers his thoughts together. Hank watches him. Connor doesn’t go stiff under the attention, but rather, he relaxes. 

“I think it would be best to start simple with meditation.” Connor drums his fingers on his lap. “I mean – it is simple but that does not negate how extremely important it is!” 

He flounders a bit, searching for words. Hank gives him time. He starts over. 

“It’s just… This isn’t how they would teach jedi.” Connor scowls at that. 

His thumb worries at his palm. He closes his eyes and let the words spill out. “But he needs to be grounded. Anchored. The force is vast and jedi are empaths. We can easily push feelings onto others emotions. But it leaves us open to manipulation as well. We pick up the emotions of those around us. So it is important that – that we know who we are. Where we begin and where we end. Meditation helps with that.” 

“Meditation prevents you from being manipulated?” 

Connor bites his lip before admitting, “Not exactly. Even experienced force-users can still fall under a thrall of particularly strong emotions when they’re distracted. But learning meditation would be better than not having any defenses against it at all.” 

Hank’s hesitant to push further but he needs to know more before he agrees to anything. “It’s not that whole… emptying yourself of emotions thing that you jetii are known for?” 

“No – no, that’s just a misconstruction of our teachings. It’s more like. Being more aware and controlling yourself.” He gestures with his hands. “Understanding why you’re feeling a certain way and not acting on impulse.” 

“Normal people do that already.” 

“Do they now?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Maybe not well,” Hank concedes. 

“It’ll be even worse for an untrained force-sensitive.” 

“Fine. Teach it.” 

Cole claps his hands and cheers. Connor lights up. He digs into his small pack, pulling out a mat. He lays it on the floor and has Cole sit on it. Hank goes to the back and grabs two sheets. He gives one to Connor and puts his own down on the ground. Connor tilts his head, a subtle question. 

“Non-force users can learn too right?” Hank asks defensively. 

“Of course they can.” Connor smiles, a slight lift at the corner of his lips. 

Together, they learn. 

The rest of the trip isn’t as fraught. Connor and Hank still argue, but, it isn’t as pressing to either of them. They begin to shape a routine between the four of them. Hank gets more at ease with Connor. He sees how gentle Connor is with Sumo and Cole. Connor spends the mornings teaching Cole once Hank starts to let him spend time with Cole without him. He carefully explains and goes through the lessons, patient and kind. Hank watches over them with a keen eye. 

He listens and learns more about the jetii, but especially about Connor. In little moments, Connor betrays bits of his personality under the jetii stoicism. He can’t help but poke and prod at it occasionally to see the man underneath. Hank is utterly fascinated. 

Hank decides to ask something that has bothered him about the jetii. Being around Connor gives him new insight but confuses him so. He can learn and change. He realizes much of his current change is dependent on what he gleams from Connor. 

“Jetii are supposed to be peacekeepers, right?” Connor nods. “Then why are you participating in war again?” 

“Jedi knights are supposed to be diplomats. Negotiators.” Bitterness pass his lips easily and without restraint. “But the jedi are beholden to the Senate.” 

Hank conceals his surprise at the strength of Connor’s vehemence. It doesn’t quite fit in his image of the jetii. He always thought of them as independent actors and never really thought of what determines who gets priority of the jetii’s assistance. 

“Can’t you guys just say no?” 

“We’re funded by the Senate, Hank.” Connor’s whole being is dull and flat. His presence usually fills the room with his excitement for life. But he is withdrawn, collapsed within himself. All the energy pulled in, as if to shield him. Almost as if he is admitting defeat to a higher power. 

Hank does not like it. It is unfamiliar to him. The jetii he knew disappeared. None of the curiosity or passion lights his eyes as it did before. He lets the conversation go, unnerved by Connor’s reaction. 

From then on, he is slightly more careful of his questions. Hank goes to do his own research on the holonet to gain more insight on the jetii. Asking Connor directly isn’t worth it. 

Going from the Outer Rim to Ralltiir is a long trip but it passes by in an instant for Hank. He doesn’t quite know when he goes from resenting the jetii’s presence to appreciating it. He had gotten used to the life they built on the trip. None of them mention the war that is happening outside. 

He pays the dock fee with a small wince. It would be cheaper at the main port, but transporting a dog across the planet would be troublesome. He rounds their little group up and out of the ship. Despite never having been to Jeff’s new place, Hank is able to travel to the address. 

Hank hasn’t seen Jeff in person in a long time. He whistles as he looks up at the building. “Damn. Jeff really made it.” 

“You can easily afford an apartment here too, from the bounty of the original Red Ice case.” Connor notes. 

“That ain’t the point.” Hank waves him off. He strolls into the building and to the elevator. 

“Then what is?” 

Hank shrugs. “I didn’t have one.” 

Connor looks out the glass elevator. He gulps as he stares down the rapidly increasing floors below him, his breathing uneven. Hank says nothing as Connor takes a hesitant step back and stares out ahead. The jetii pulls out a coin. He flips it between his fingers. Hank would normally snatch the coin, but he can allow this much of the jetii. Cole watches, entranced. 

The elevator beeps and the doors slide open. Hank navigates the halls, reaching Jeff’s door. He doesn’t bother knocking. He just hacks into the security system to open the door. 

Hank is greeted with a pistol to his face. He pushes the nozzle down. 

“Hey Jeff, that’s no way to greet an old friend!” 

“What the everloving kriff, Hank?” Jeff looks over Hank’s shoulder. “You could have just knocked. Like a normal person.” 

Hank does little to hide the jetii behind him. “Where’s the fun in that?” 

“Hi Uncle Jeff!” Cole pipes up, redirecting his attention. Sumo squeezes past them into Jeff’s apartment. 

“So, can we come in?” Hank asks. 

Jeff sighs then moves aside. The rest of them fall into the apartment. 

“Who’s your friend?” Jeff asks. 

“This is Connor.” Hank pats him on the arm. 

Connor reaches out. Jeff does not offer him a hand to shake. Connor smiles and weakly waves instead. 

“Can I speak with Hank alone real quick?” Jeff grips Hank’s upper arm. 

Connor inclines his head in agreement. He joins Cole and Sumo by a display case, giving an illusion of privacy. 

Jeffery goes to the kitchen and Hank follows. He pours out a drink for the both of them. Hank accepts it, smiling gratefully. 

Hank swirls the drink in his hands to occupy them. He can tell that Jeff wants to shake his shoulders and yell at him. He’s got that distinct look to him. 

“You can’t exactly afford a connection to a jetii, Hank. You’re not the Duchess,” Jeff doesn’t quite scold him. 

He shrugs. “Will you at least begrudge me this?” 

“It’s not me you have to worry about, Hank.” Jeff looks at the jetii perusing his collection of old style records. Cole points different things out. 

“He knows.” Hank tugs at his beard. 

“He _knows_?” Jeff hisses through his teeth. “Do you really think that is wise?” 

“I trust him.” 

Jeff points at him, shaking. He slides a hand over his face. “So why, after all these years, do you visit me with a jetii?” 

“I need a favor. Or two.” Hank scrapes at the table with his nail. “Can you watch Cole and Sumo?” 

“Of course, Hank. I’ll take good care of them.” He stares at Hank. “What else do you want?” 

Hank squirms. “We should probably discuss this with the jetii.” 

Jeff stomps his way to the living area. Hank downs his drink and brings Jeff’s along. He hands it to him. Hank waves over Connor, who tentatively sits down in one of the arm chairs. Hank leans on the back of the chair. 

“What do you remember of the Red Ice cases?” 

Jeff knocks his own drink back. “Why are you digging that back up?” 

He puts his hands up in a placating gesture. “Seems like we didn’t clean them up as well as we thought we did.” 

Jeff groans before telling them, “There was an informant on the original case who got off easy. He’s out of jail by now, so you should be able to find him.” 

“Who?” Connor asks. 

“Todd Williams.” 

Connor sits up straighter at that. “When did he get out?” 

Jeff scratches at his chin. “I’m not sure. I hadn’t exactly kept track of him. Didn’t think he’ll ever be relevant again.” 

Hank does his best to ignore Connor’s disappointment. He searches his memory for other… interesting characters. “Do you think Pedro would know?” 

“Pedro wasn’t that close to Todd.” Jeff leans back a little. “But you would know better, Hank.” 

Hank rubs at his temples. “It wouldn’t hurt to try, I guess.” 

“There you have it.” Jeff raises his empty glass to him. 

“We better go now so we can catch up with Pedro.” 

Jeff nods and escorts them to the door. “Good luck.” He looks at Connor. “Or may the Force be with you?” 

Connor gives his thanks while Cole clings to Hank’s middle. Hank bends down and kisses his forehead. 

“Be good for Uncle Jeff, okay, Cole?” He ruffles his son’s hair. 

Cole ducks under his hand, lightly smacking it away. 

They leave the fancy apartment building behind. Hank stuffs his hands in his pockets. They walk in silence, Connor trusting Hank to lead the way. Hank looks at him from his peripheral vision. Connor seems deep in thought, biting at his lip. 

“So. What do you know about Todd Williams?” 

Connor darts a glance at him. He quickly looks back down. “He’s Alice’s – one of the missing padawans – biological father.” 

“You think he has Alice?” Hank rubs at the back of his neck. 

“It would wrap this up quite easily.” 

Hank can understand his hopes for the case to be as simple as that. But it doesn’t explain the others’ disappearances. “You don’t think that’s the case.” 

“No.” Connor pulls at his sleeves. “He willingly gave her to the jedi. Why kidnap her now? Why take the others?” 

Their musing gets cut off when a man crashes into Connor. Connor catches him by his shoulders, steadying him. The man’s eyes widen when he sees Connor. He shrugs off Connor’s hands and runs. 

Connor takes off after him. Hank curses and isn’t far behind. They weave in and out of crowds of the city. 

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to just chase some man?” Hank huffs out. 

Connor doesn’t answer. The man pushes someone out of their speeder and steals it. Ahead of them, and at a much greater speed, it becomes increasingly hard to keep sight of him. 

Hank does his best, quickly commandeering a speeder. Connor hops in the passenger seat. People shout. He yells, “I’ll transfer the credits for this later!” 

Connor owes him one. He hates jetii. 

The man takes the speeder to the skies. Hank maneuvers his own, speeding up. He’s able to get within arm’s length. 

Connor climbs over the edge, preparing to jump. Hank curses as he stretches across the speeder, trying to keep his hand on the wheel. His focus divided, he still makes the grab for Connor, his fingers barely grasping the back of Connor’s robe. Connor falls over, landing awkwardly back in the seat. 

A dead end to that lead, but better than Connor recklessly jumping off a speeder. 

“What the kriff, Connor! I thought you were afraid of heights!” Hank swerves, barely missing an incoming speeder. His heart is in his throat. 

Hank can feel Connor’s stare on him. The jetii doesn’t even question how he knows. Hank takes a quick glance at the jetii. His hair is windswept, and he is gaping. His cheeks are flushed a brilliant red. Surprise, he assumes. Hank returns his attention to driving. 

He doesn’t see it but from sound of Connor straightening on the chair he can tell the jetii has already regained his bearing. He clears his throat. “The mission takes priority, no matter the risks.” 

“Bull!” Hank slams his hand on the steering wheel. “You matter.” 

“I didn’t realize it mattered to you.” 

Hank faces Connor in a moment of distraction. His brows are scrunched in confusion. Hank resists any and all urges to smooth it out. He lands back to the original place and pulls the speeder to a stop. Hank haggles a bit with the owner then gives the credits with a sigh. 

Wait. He whips around to Connor. “Did you just refer to yourself as it?” 

“A slip of the tongue. It’s nothing.” Connor has a pensive look to his face. He rests his chin on his fist. His other hand taps a small tune on the co-pilot chair. “He looked familiar.” 

Hank growls but allows the change of topic. “Is that why you chased him?” 

“I think he’s Rupert – the Agricorps farmer. But it has been a long time since I’ve seen him in person.” 

“How long?” 

“Twenty-six years.” 

Hank whistles. “That’s a long time. What happened?” 

Connor does not meet his eyes. He tucks his hands in his sleeves. “Jedi Knights have little reason to go to an Agricorps mission or planet.” 

Hank hesitates before bringing up his next point. Connor may not be close to Rupert but he’s still someone he once was close with. “If he’s running around, that probably means he’s aiding the production of Red Ice freely.” 

“He’s Agricorps. Like I said, he’s not as connected to Jedi Knights.” 

“So what? The Agricorps guys just kidnapping jetii knights out of jealousy? They’re not even trained in combat, right? How would they be taking down knights?” 

“There’s still Todd Williams to talk to.” Connor does not avoid the questions either deftly or artly. Desperation has made him sloppy. 

“Sure is.” Hank crosses his arms. “But that doesn’t do much in regards to the Agricorps members.” 

“We need more information before making any definite conclusions.” Connor’s arms hang limply by his side. He is slumped in defeat of the possibilities. Hank decides to give him another break. 

“Time to speak with Todd,” Hank pats him on the shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, alright?” 

Connor nods sedately. 

They enter a rather bleak neighborhood. The houses are almost collapsing under their own weight. The steps creak under their shoes. Connor knocks on the door, and it swings open. He turns to Hank. Hank shrugs. Connor nudges the door further and enters. 

They explore the house. Much like the outside, the inside is in disrepair . In what Hank assumes is the bedroom, he finds bags of Red Ice under the mattress. 

He hears a distant shout: “Hank!” 

He follows Connor’s voice to the bathroom. He shivers. It barely looks like a bathroom. It’s insulated and has cold air blowing. 

“Guess he put all the money into the bathroom.” He wraps his arms around himself. 

Connor is kneeling on the floor. He has the cabinet open. “Hank, look.” 

He crouches besides him. Inside the cabinet are bags of blood. 

“Who’s there?” shouts a raspy voice. 

They rush out of the bathroom. At the door is Todd Williams. 

His eyes widens and he pales. Unlike the supposed Rupert, Todd does not run. He kicks Connor’s legs out from under him. Hank’s first instinct is to grab his blaster but he knows Connor needs the man alive. He goes for a punch instead. Todd goes down easily. 

“Thank you, Hank.” Connor secures Todd’s wrists behind his back. He brushes off his pants as he gets up. 

“Where’s Alice, Todd?” 

“Isn’t she with you jedi freaks?” he sneers. 

“Todd.” Connor picks the man up by his collar. 

“Felucia. You should check it out. Beautiful place. Isolated farmlands where nobody can see what’s going on in the houses,” Todd rambles. “Ask for that bitch, Rose.” 

Todd’s smile is a nasty thing, covered in blood. He spits at Connor. 

Connor drops him in a heap. 

Todd scrabbles up to his feet. He lurches to a run, stumbling. Connor doesn’t follow. Hank does. He tackles the man to the floor and knocks him out. He makes a brief call to the relevant parties. 

“Well, that was easy.” Hank pats Connor on the back. 

“He doesn’t care.” Connor’s voice trails off. “Why give her up so easily?” 

“It doesn’t matter. We’re going to Felucia and we’re going to find her. Okay?” Hank scrubs at his face. To himself, he says, “We have to pick up Cole and Sumo then.” 

Connor responds anyway. “Are you sure?” Connor’s mouth twists down. He wrings his hands. “While it is currently under Republic rule, it tends to be an active war zone.” 

“I’d rather have Cole with me than not. He can stay safe in the ship.” 

Connor looks like he ate something sour, but doesn’t argue. 

They pick up Cole and Sumo and return to the ship. Going back to the Outer Rim, the trip from Ralltiir to Felucia is almost as long as the original trip. Hank complains the whole way. Nonetheless, they fall back into the easy, developed routine. 

Connor somehow fits in their lives on the ship. Hank tries not to think of it. 

Once they arrive, Connor goes to walk around the outpost. He tells Hank that he will contact the jetii there to see if they have heard of Rose. Connor steps out before Hank can respond. Hank decides to let it be. He and Cole stay inside. He’d rather limit his own exposure to jetii. One is enough for him. 

Cole pokes at Hank as they wait. “You like him.” 

“He’s okay.” He leans back in his chair, dislodging Cole. 

Cole ignores his lackluster response. “Are you going to tell him?” 

“That he’s okay?” Hank suppresses a smirk. 

“No.” Cole draws out the o. “That you like him.” 

“Nah, I’m good.” 

Cole pouts. Connor re-enters the ship, ending the conversation. His grip is tight on a slip of paper. 

“I got an address!” He glows with happiness at the success. He lifts Cole up and spins him around. 

Hank plucks the slip of paper from Connor. The place is on the other side of the planet but should still have some docks. It wouldn’t be the main one and not as safe, but Hank is willing to take the chance. Smaller docks just mean fewer people. His main concern is not causing as much of a ruckus. Hank would rather not have a repeat of the speeder incident. 

“We can take my ship there. Should be less than a day’s trip.” 

“Got it.” Connor nods. 

Though the trip is not long, Cole and Sumo are antsy from their time cooped up in the ship. Hank doesn’t normally do back-to-back trips between the Core and Outer Rim. Connor’s anxiousness from a solid lead doesn’t help either. They move aimlessly around the ship, thrumming with energy. 

By the time they get there, Hank gives strict instructions to Cole before joining Connor outside. Hank was lucky enough to find a dock somewhat close to the address. It is a short walk before they see the sign for Rose’s Farm. 

An older woman and young man are moving between the house and a speeder, loading it with crates. Connor goes straight to them. 

“Hello, my name is Connor. And this is Hank.” He offers his hand. 

“I’m Rose.” She accepts Connor’s hand. “This is my son, Adam. How can I help you?” 

Behind her, Adam fidgets. He shifts from foot to foot and looks away when Hank’s attention is turned to him. 

“We’re looking for some missing...” Connor pauses. “People.”

Hank regards him curiously. He doesn’t mention jetii.

Connor hands Rose holos with the images of the missing. “I heard you can help us.” 

Adam’s breathing speeds up when he catches sight of the holos. Rose fares slightly better with the slight widening of her eyes. 

“Who exactly are you, Connor?” 

“I’m a jedi. I don’t want to cause any trouble.” 

Rose still regards him with suspicion. “Show me your lightsaber.” 

Connor moves his robe aside, displaying the saber. Rose tuts. 

“What do you hope to find?” 

“I just want to know where they are. If they are safe.” 

“Wait here,” she tells Adam, “Watch them.” 

Adam rubs his arm, nervous. He agrees anyway. The three of them stand outside. Connor pulls out his coin and flips it between his hands. 

From a distance, he can see Rose and the vague shape of a slight woman walking towards them. Her hair is dark colored and short. Beside her is a small girl with her hair in a loose ponytail. 

“Kara?” Connor’s tone is oddly vulnerable and lost. “Alice?” 

“Hello, Connor.” She smiles. 

Adam slips away with his mother into the house. Hank has the feeling he shouldn’t be around but isn’t sure where to go. He stays. Alice hides behind Kara, peeking at them shyly. 

“Why?” Connor chokes out. 

“You know why, Connor.” She is soft-spoken but there is a hint of steel in her voice. 

“I really don’t.” 

“There’s something wrong with the Republic.” She reaches for him but does not complete the action. “Can’t you feel it?” 

“You could have left freely if you didn’t want to be a jedi! Why assist with the production of Red Ice?” 

“Jedi can leave freely, yes. But clones can’t. They’re slaves! Slaves are supposed to be illegal in the Republic – and yet! The jedi commands a whole army of slaves. And that doesn’t even take into account that we don’t have any money that is not from the Senate.” 

Hank recalls a conversation with Connor. His utter bitterness of the jetii being tied to the Senate. Of how the jetii have strayed from their true purpose. And he _understands_. The methods may be wrong, but what choice do Kara and the others really have? 

He discreetly peeks at Connor from the corner of his eye. The jetii is frozen. 

“Is this. Is this really what you want Kara?” Connor asks, subdued. 

She nods. 

Connor steps towards Kara, his movements stiff. He wraps his arms around her. They hold a hushed conversation. Alice tugs at Connor’s sleeve. He kneels and speaks with her too. Connor tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. He stands. Kara and Connor take a step away from each other. Kara takes Alice’s hand and they leave. 

Hank does not chase them. 

“Are you okay with that? She makes Red Ice.” 

“I told her Todd was taken care of. I won’t go after her if she takes a different path.” 

Rose returns without Adam. She continues her earlier task, loading her speeder. Connor helps. Hank stands bewildered before joining as well. Connor and Rose are ahead of him, speaking. Together, the three of them finish packing the produce on the speeder.

“Would you boys like some iced tea?” Rose asks. 

Connor shakes his head. 

“I’m good, thank you.” Hank says. “I should get going.” 

Rose smiles and goes into the house. Alone again, Connor and Hank stand in the yard. Hank realizes his job with Connor is technically done. They found the missing jetii. There is no danger to Cole. Nonetheless, he feels nervous at their impending separation. 

He begins the trip back to his ship. Connor falls into step with him. 

“Thank you for your help, Hank. I’ve transferred the fee to you.” 

Hank looks at him dubiously. Connor hadn’t made any movement. He doesn’t bother to try to be discreet as he checks his account. The full amount of credits are there.

“How?” 

“I did it before we arrived at Rose’s Farm,” Connor admits. 

“We didn’t even know what happened at that point!” 

Connor looks sheepish as he says, “I had a feeling we would find out either way.” 

Hank huffs and blows a strand of his hair out of his face. “I can take you to Coruscant?” 

“I won’t make you do another trip to the Core. I can get a ride with the jedi at the outpost.” 

“Do you want us to take you to the outpost?” Hank scratches the back of his head. 

“It’s fine. Rose offered me a ride. She has to go there anyway to deliver her supplies.” 

“Well. Bye, I guess.” Hank stuffs his hands in his pockets. 

Connor starts to head back to Rose’s. Cole rushes out of the ship and runs to Connor. 

“Cole, please.” Hank huffs, grabbing Cole by the shoulder. “What do I keep telling you about leaving the ship unsupervised?” 

“Connor was just going to leave without saying goodbye!” Cole tries to wiggle out of his grasp. 

“No podraces for the next two months.” Hank says before he begrudgingly lets Cole go. Cole doesn’t even complain that it means missing the Boonta Eve Classic. Cole catches up to Connor. 

“Wait!” Cole tugs on Connor’s sleeve. “Here.” 

Hank does not stop Cole. In his hands is a comm with Hank’s number. He follows at a leisurely pace as he comes to them. Up close, Hank can see Connor biting his lip and reads his hesitation in the tension of his shoulders. He smiles. “Go on. Take it. I won’t mind hearing from you.” 

“Are you sure?” Connor turns the comm around in his hands. He looks at it like it holds the secrets of the universe. 

“Yup. I better hear back from you.” He scratches the back of his head. “I want to know you’re safe.” 

“The battlefield is not exactly safe.” 

“I know.” 

Connor finally returns his smile. Hank pats him on the shoulder, then drags the jetii into a hug. Cole crashes in and tries to wrap his arms around them both. They shift around into a more comfortable position. 

Hank can feel the shift as Connor untangles himself from the hug. He straightens and becomes the ever so prim and proper jetii again. Hank isn’t fooled. 

“Well. I guess I should be going then.” Connor adjusts the bag at his shoulder and turns to go. 

Neither Hank nor Cole stop him again. 

Hank doesn’t expect to hear back from Connor – not that he tells Cole this. He assumes that the war will keep him busy and that he and Cole will fall to the wayside. A transmission can be dangerous on unregulated lines. But he likes the thought that Connor has the option to contact them whenever he can. 

He is relatively surprised when contact from Connor comes from an unexpected, grumpy source. 

“Tell your friend, I’m not a delivery man.” Jeffery grouses. He pushes a box towards Cole and a wrapped package to Hank. 

“Friend?” Hank says dumbly. The package isn’t heavy but it is unwieldy. 

Jeffery lifts an unimpressed brow. He knocks back his own drink, not answering. 

Cole pokes and prods at his own gift. He examines the box with not much care. Whatever is inside rattles a bit. He balances the box on his lap as he uses a nail to open the seam. Cole pulls out cushioning material before finally taking out a small glass jar with a green ribbon tied around the lid. The jar is filled with small colorful shells and pebbles. He sets the jar down on the table. Cole takes out a small card as well and reads it outloud. 

_Hello Cole, I collected these up while on a mission at Mon Cala. I thought you might appreciate it. -Connor_

He cradles both jar and card to his chest in an awkward hold. The box and cushioning fall to the floor. Jeffery sighs before picking it up and placing it on the table. 

“Sorry about that.” Hank pats him on the back. He isn’t sure what exactly he is apologizing for but it feels right. 

Cole leans into Hank’s space. “C’mon, Dad. Open it.” 

Hank does not study his gift. He rips the thin wrapping and he lifts up a beautiful shimmering blanket. A card falls out. Hank makes a grab for it before Jeffery can reach. He quickly scans its contents. 

“What does it say? Read it out loud!” Cole demands, tacking on a “please.” 

Jeff takes his turn to pat Hank on the shoulder. “You better not if it’s inappropriate.” 

Hank feels the heat creep up his face. 

Cole pouts. “I’m plenty adult!” 

“I know.” Jeff ruffles his hair, “I’m just teasing our old man.” 

Hank tucks the card away. 

The next surprise is when Connor visits them in person at the Outer Rim. He comes to them at Chicken Feed. 

“How’d you know we would be here?” Hank ducks his head, scratching it. His curtain of hair hides his blush, hopefully. 

“The Force.” Connor wiggles his fingers. “Well. I hoped.” 

“Have you been coming here?”. 

Connor flushes and does not answer. Hank sighs. 

“Come on, the food’s getting cold.” 

He brings Connor to his ship. Cole sees them from the window and rushes out. He crashes into Connor. “I missed you!” 

“No love for your old man?” Hank dramatically clutches his chest. 

“Dad, I see you everyday.” Cole rolls his eyes. 

They enter the ship, squeezing through the doorway. Connor hobbles with Cole still attached to him. Sumo lifts his head but continues to nap. Hank puts the food down. Connor shoulders off his bag and digs around in it. 

“Here’s a holocron.” He hands it to Cole. Cole rotates the object in his hands. “Now, I’ve –” 

Hank leaves them to it, listening with half an ear. He slumps into the pilot chair and closes his eyes for a bit. He doesn’t quite know how to react to Connor’s sudden reappearance in their lives. He’s letting the food get cold. Chicken Feed isn’t great at room temperature. He groans but doesn’t make a move from the chair. 

Cole lets out a cry of delight, his laughter filling the ship. Hank startles and goes to them to see what the ruckus is about. 

Connor’s eyes widens upon his approach. He brings his hands up in front of him. “I didn’t mean to!” 

“You didn’t mean to what?” Hank’s worry notches up from zero to hundred at Connor’s tone. 

Cole jumps over the couch, running to him. “It’s so cool!” 

“What’s so cool?” 

Connor bites his lip. “I accidently formed a Master-Padawan bond with your son. I didn’t mean to!” 

Hank takes a deep breath. He is more used to the weirdness of the jetii because of Connor, but... “What exactly does that entail?” 

Connor goes straight to definition by route. “It gives us more of an awareness of each other. We can read basic emotions across a greater distance. It usually helps with meditation.” 

Hank sighs. It’s not as bad as he thought. “Cole, would you like to keep it?” 

“Yes!” 

“How about you Connor?” 

Connor looks down, barely hiding a smile. “I would like to.” 

“Then it’s settled.” Hank hugs the both of them, “You’re now officially teacher and student?” 

“I was already his teacher.” Connor tilts his head.

Cole rolls his eyes but his smile doesn’t dim. 

Connor does not visit in person as often as either of them likes. Delivering a gift in person probably doesn’t rank high in importance. 

Nonetheless, the war takes him to various faraway places. Because Hank and Cole do not have a permanent address, he has a tendency to send the gifts to Jeff as a middleman. Jeff sends a quick transmission to them. He loves to complain all he wants in his messages but Hank can tell he likes the awkward jetii. 

It isn’t always Jeff. Sometimes, it’s Gary or Jimmy. Those are infinitely more embarrassing. They leer at him as they give him the gifts. He wonders how Connor decides where to send the gifts and how he got Gary and Jimmy to go along with this. He knows Gary is fond of Cole, but Jimmy hates jetii... 

The whole thing with Connor feels strange. Different. He doesn’t quite know what to expect or do with him. Connor technically has no money or space of his own. There is a place for him by Hank’s side, but he knows Connor will reject a place of belonging. Of owning things and feeling. 

Hank snorts. Jetii don’t have belongings. But Hank considers his ship, his space, and everywhere he looks, he sees Connor’s touch, the things Connor leaves behind, the gifts for Cole and him. The gifts vary from useless and pretty to practical. The craftsmanship of some of the gifts is of a high quality that amazes Hank. Cole loves it. 

When he does visit again, it’s like lightning. Singular, and exciting. Hank doesn’t quite know what happens. Cole and Sumo are with Jeff. Hank’s just returning to his ship after dropping a target off. He is tired, dragging himself through the streets. At the foot of his ship, is Connor. 

He grabs him and brings him inside. He barely closes the door when Connor kisses him clumsily. The first kiss lands on the corner of his mouth. The next meets its target. He smiles against the kiss. Hank leans back. Everything is happening so fast. It feels like a dream. His thumb brushes Connor’s cheek. He leans into his touch. Hank prefers this reality where Connor can smile so sweetly at him. 

“How do I – how do I know this is for real?” The words rush out of him, barely tripping and recovering. 

Connor tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

“How do I kriffing know if - if you’re not just influenced by my emotions?”

“I’m not a youngling. I do know proper control.” Connor rolls his eyes. His arms cross defensively across his chest, a mimicry of Hank’s own pose. “If anything, I should be the one asking you that.”

“Early on.” Hank takes a breath. “You said even the most experienced can sometimes slip. Were you lying?”

“No.”

“So how do I know if this is real?” 

“It doesn’t work long distance. It doesn’t work for a long period of time.” Connor’s flush climbs up his face. “Even when I’m not with you... even if it’s been months since I saw you, I still love you.” 

The Senate is corrupt. The sky on Naboo is blue. The surface of Mandalore is scorched. The Duchess is a pacifist. Connor loves Hank. An immutable fact. 

“Now, what about you?”

The pent up energy drains from Hank. _It’s real,_ a voice in the back of his head whispers. It is something entirely different than when he wasn’t expecting for his feelings to truly be returned. He can’t pretend anymore, but... He can’t let Connor throw away all he knows for them. He wasn’t willing to do so when he had the chance with Kara. He wasn’t willing to leave in the middle of war. What changed his mind? 

Hank takes a step back. 

“Right.” Connor rubs his hands together. “Okay then. I was stupid.” He runs his fingers through his hair, ducking his head. He lets out a wet chuckle. “I’ll just. Go.” 

Hank stands rooted to the spot. His limbs slow and his tongue numb. He watches Connor walk away. 

The gifts do not stop, but the rare visit or transmission? It ends. It isn’t abrupt, Cole barely notices the change. Hank does though. He tries to keep up with news of the war, for any scrap about Connor. 

Connor isn’t flashy as Kenobi and Skywalker or essential to the cause. He barely registers as important. Any information about him is few and far between. Hank has to comfort himself with the continued gifts signaling that he is alive. 

He continues with his life. But, like all things, there is change. It is abrupt and without warning. 

It is as if the galaxy just stops. People cowering in their homes, or hiding anywhere they could. All there is the visceral horror of watching the clones march to the Temple, of shooting the jetii in the back on the order of the Chancellor. Disbelief at the news that the jetii betrayed the Republic. Fear at how easy the clones turned on the jetii. People are silent as the march of the clones echoes through the streets, targeting jetii with unerring accuracy. 

Hundreds of thousands of lives are gone in an instant. 

Hank doesn’t hear of this in his ship. But what he does know is this: his son screaming, his face red. Snot and tears flow easily as he hiccups through his screams. The feeling of wrongness that permeates the ship (that permeates the galaxy as something fundamental _changes_ ), as his son breaks down. He tries to hum a comforting tune and rock Cole. Cole thrashes for a while then settles his hands on Hank’s jacket, gripping it tight. 

“They’re dead.” Cole whispers. 

Hank pauses in petting Cole’s hair. Something feels lodged in his throat. He clears it, gruffly asking and dreading the answer. “Who?” 

“The jetii. All of them.” Cole wipes his face with his sleeve, hiding. Hank can hear his sniffles. 

“Connor.” The name is punched out of him. 

Cole shakes his head. His grip returns to Hank’s jacket. His brows furrow. His face clears, his cheeks still ruddy but his eyes bright. Cole vibrates with excitement. 

“Connor! Connor is alive!” He bites his lip. “The bond. It’s faint. But it’s there!” 

For one terrible, guilty, moment, Hank hesitates. He does not know what exterminated the jetii. He can assume that whatever or whoever did it, their aim is to get rid of all jetii. If he deliberately looks for Connor, if he brings him to his ship, Cole would be in danger. 

He comes to a decision. 

“Don’t worry, Cole. We’re going to find him.” 

**Author's Note:**

> OTZ NOBODY USES A LIGHTSABER ONCE?! AND THERE'S A COMPLETE LACK OF ALIENS!! I'm sorry y'all. 
> 
> Anyway, this post definitely inspired some aspects of the story and is an interesting read if you're into SW: https://shadow-spires.tumblr.com/post/184688951824/trickytricky1-the-rose-gardens-hyperewok1


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